ahoy, there~☆

“But that crazy bastard started it!” the boy’s lips curled downward, his hands clenching into tight fists as his swift defense came. Tufts of blonde hair messily peaked out of his scalp, resembling a ball of spikes. Lifting his head, his own vermillion eyes met with hers, staring straight at her soul as if challenging her power.

Mirko heaved out an exasperated sigh; a swelling ache throbbed on the side of her temple, causing her to rub soothing circles on it in an attempt to alleviate the pain. She mumbled, “Damn it, Katsuki. Wouldn’t it hurt to just let go of Monoma? I get that he’s one of the shittiest kids in the tribe, but you have to get along with him. His dad is one of the council members, and you want to get their approval, right?”

Bakugou’s fists tightened. Blunt nails dug through his skin, almost drawing out blood from the intense pressure. 

It was always like that. Always. 

Despite being the son of the tribe’s chief, he had never received an ounce of warmth or respect from the members, especially the children. They all looked at him with scornful looks, scrutinizing every inch of his form. Although the adults would treat him in a civil way in front of him and Mirko, once they would be out of their sight, awful things would be spewing out of their mouths; disdain and contempt laced with their words. 

In contrast to the adults, the children were worse, not even trying to conceal their hostility toward him as they openly teased and bullied him.

Even as a young child, Bakugou already knew and understood his position in society—he was an outcast. 

“Mom...w-why do people h-hate me so m-much?” Bakugou sniffled quietly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as his voice wavered like a flickering candle. His strong facade crumbled down in an instant. It was just too much to bear for a boy like him. 

“Why do I need to try so damn hard to please those extras when I didn’t do any shit to them?”

Seeing Bakugou being swallowed up by misery, an excruciating pain sheeted through Mirko’s heart. Her solemn features softened, becoming forlorn and downcast. 

Bakugou was just too different from their own kind. One could simply tell by just looking at his outward appearance, heavily contrasting them as he didn’t bear any resemblance to them; his features lacked the prominent wings, horns, and tail. Moreover, his skin was smooth and supple, far from being ragged, colorful, and scaley like them. 

It was clear that he didn’t belong with their kin.

But Mirko begged to differ. There was no denying that Bakugou was different, but deep inside, she knew that he wasn't all that different from them. 

“Katsuki,” Mirko said, her voice soft and gentle. With a kind smile lacing her lips, she patted her lap with her palms, urging for him to sit on it. 

Without any refutation, Bakugou quickly complied. As soon as he found himself comfortable in his position, a pair of arms wrapped around him, his tiny figure basking in the warmth that her body radiated. He couldn’t help but let out a breathy sigh, leaning into her touch.

A soft melody escaped from Mirko’s lips as sweet words began to pour out of her mouth. “Come stop your crying, it will be alright. Just take my hand, hold it tight.” Her grip around him became firm but not too tight, reassuring the little boy. “I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, don't you cry.”

Mirko had felt something tug at her heart—a pang of guilt—the moment she had seen Bakugou’s state; he could barely contain all the pain he felt inside. She felt that she failed her role as his mother. 

Taking care of him for years, he had never shed even a single tear despite all the negative comments and nitpicking coming his way. Quite frankly, Mirko was impressed that he was strong to the point of fighting back. But she has seemed to have forgotten that...he was still a child. A small bud that hasn’t bloomed yet. A potential that could easily be withered.

The world was too much for him, too cruel for a child. And all just because he was nothing like the others. 

“For one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry.” Her hand gently caressed his head, running her fingers through his unruly blonde hair. “You'll be in my heart from this day on, now and forever more. You'll be in my heart, no matter what they say.”

This was it. 

The warmth that he was deprived of. The warmth that no person in the tribe could ever provide. The warmth that no one was willing to give him. Bakugou’s consciousness gradually flickered with each soft and warm caress of her rough pad; each tender touch lulled him to sleep along with her gentle lullaby. 

“Why can't they understand the way we feel? They just don't trust what they can't explain. I know we're different but deep inside us, we're not that different at all. Don't listen to them 'cause what do they know? I may not be with you, but you've got to hold on. They'll see in time, I know.

You'll be in my heart. Believe me, you'll be in my heart. I'll be there for you always and always…You know that I love you, right, Katsuki?”

“Yeah…” He mumbled, almost dozing off. Mirko chuckled at his drowsy state, finding it endearing as she pressed her lips against the crown of his head, placing a kiss on it.

Before Bakugou could drift off to dreamland, a booming voice interrupted, causing Bakugou to lose all of his weariness.

“Ah, Bakubro, I finally found ‘ya!”

Even without looking, he already knew who it was. Glaring at the boy standing in front of the throne, he spat, “The hell do you want, shitty hair?”

“Hey, that’s Kirishima for you!”

Kirishima Eijirou, one of the children in the tribe. However, he didn’t treat Bakugou poorly like the others did; he was the only one who tried befriending him despite the latter frequently rejecting his advances and invitations—seeing him as annoying.

“Anyway, wanna train with me?” 

Bakugou scoffed, swiveling his head to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest. A tint of pink dusted all over his cheeks. “I don’t have plans right now, so I’ll accept your offer.” 

Despite Bakugou’s slightly negative view of Kirishima, he doesn't mind him. In fact, he’d pick his companionship rather than the shitty people of his tribe. He can be stupid at times, but he isn’t that bad, Bakugou thought. 

Mirko laughed before ruffling Bakugou’s messy hair, “Would it hurt for you to say that you actually like ‘lil Kiri’s company?”

“I don't,” Bakugou whined as he puffed out his cheek, avoiding Mirko’s gaze, which caused another giggle to escape from her lips. His words said one thing but his actions said otherwise. 

As Bakugou left her lap and walked toward Kirishima, a sense of relief washed over Mirko. Even though he was mistreated, it was nice to know that someone was willing to look past his different appearance. 

“Take care of him, Kiri. You know how much pain in the ass that brat is.” 

Kirishima saluted and exclaimed, “Gotcha, chief!”

A faint smile etched on Mirko’s lips, watching their forms turned to silhouettes that gradually dwindled as they headed the other way; they filled the calm air with a lively sound as they bickered back and forth.

“You should have never brought that boy to this tribe.” 

Suddenly, the atmosphere turned cold as the temperature dropped. The grin Mirko had faded away; several creases formed on her temple as she furrowed her brows. 

She was not pleased. 

Growling, she bared her teeth. “And then what? Let the poor child be a food to those beasts—let a helpless creature die in this jungle?” Her gaze peeled away from the boys, landing directly at the man beside her as she turned her head to the side. 

He was unkempt and disheveled; long black tresses messily framed his face, and rough stubbles littered on his chin. With his stature slender and tall, he looked down at her; onyx eyes narrowed and pierced through her soul.

“If the jungle wants him dead then so be it,” he emphasized the last three words, creating a menacing tone, “It’s simply survival of the fittest. He was never meant to be here, so how can you expect a human boy to survi—”

“Enough!” 

Mirko abruptly stood up from the throne.

“We’ve already discussed this, Aizawa. No matter how much nonsense you spout, I will never regret that I took Bakugou in and raised him as my own son. As my right-hand man, respect my decision as it is.”

Without any further discussion, Mirko left. A patch of chagrin etched on the ground with every step she took.

…

“Holy shit,” Bakugou’s chest rose and fell erratically; an unsteady rhythm conducted the heaving of his chest. Gasping for breath, his lungs desperately craved for air. Accompanying his labored breaths, beads of sweat trickled down his temple.

“Nice one, Bakubro.” Kirishima grinned, sauntering towards Bakugou. Heavy feet pattered against the golden sands of the beach, coarse granules pressing to his skin. 

With exhaustion taking over his body, Bakugou immediately sat down. His eyes trained at the horizon, gazing upon the juncture where the sky effortlessly weaved with the sea like two puzzle pieces that perfectly match each other.

At that moment, everything was calm and serene. No criticisms. No crude nor hostile remarks. It was just the hushed sound of the waters and the gentle breeze of the air. All the weariness dissipated as they basked in the serenity of the moment. 

Staring at the endless blue waves, Bakugou couldn’t help but wonder about the world beyond the familiar sea. He was sure that there was something bigger out there—bigger than the world he knew. An uncharted territory that he wished to see and explore. 

“Hey, Kirishima—”

“Holy fucking shit. You said my name!”

“Whatever,” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “But have you just ever wondered what’s beyond this shitty island?”

“Not really, but I heard my parents talking about the mainland or something.”

Bakugou arched his brow. The concept was foreign to him. “Mainland? What the fuck is that shit?”

“I guess the chief hasn’t told you about it yet,” Kirishima scratched the back of neck, “well...it’s not like the adults talk too much about it either. Anyway, what’s interesting is that our tribe used to live on the mainland! But that was like a hundred years ago.”

“Then why the hell are we on this damn island?”

Kirishima paused for a moment, tilting his head as he tried to think of an answer. “My parents didn’t dwell on the topic, so I don’t have any clues about it. Maybe the chief knows something.”

Bakugou scoffed, “As if that hag will tell me anything.” 

Kirishima shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?” 

Bakugou just grunted in response.

Minutes turned to hours; thus, the day slowly went by. Bakugou and Kirishima remained on the beach, silently watching the sun gradually bid them goodbye before returning to the village. 

With a new king perched on the leaden sky, it was time for supper.

“See ‘ya tomorrow, Bakubro!”

Bakugou only nodded at Kirishima before heading his way home. Unlike Kirishima, Bakugou’s and Mirko’s hut was located the farthest in the village, taking him a few minutes to reach it. 

As soon as he arrived, a rich and delicious aroma wafted toward Bakugou’s nostrils, eliciting a grumble from his stomach. Looking down at the floor, sheets of banana leaves sprawled all over its wooden boards; large pieces of roast meat sat atop with a few fruits and vegetables on the side. 

This sight had Bakugou salivating. 

Plopping his body down to the ground, he was about to dive in when a harsh slap reverberated. Bakugou hissed as he received a smack on his arm from Mirko. As she withdrew her hand, a stinging pain left its wake that seared on his skin.

“Have you washed your hands?”

Bakugou furrowed his brows. “No because I’m fucking hungry.”

“Katsuki.”

Bakugou instantly shuddered. Her voice dangerously dropped, wrath lacing with her tone. 

“Fine,” he exasperatedly sighed before muttering, “Old hag…”

“Hah? Did’ya say something, Katsuki?”

Bakugou quickly took back his words, attempting to avoid experiencing Mirko's rage. “Nothing.”

As the night slowly passed, the moon grew fuller, exuding a brilliant, silver gleam. Litters of white speckles glistened all over the dark purple and blue canvas of the sky.

In their humble home, a handwoven mat made out of dried leaves splayed on the floor as Bakugou and Mirko laid against it. Her hand was once again on his hair, running along his messy strands to lull him to sleep.

Even with her best efforts, Bakugou just couldn't sleep. Not when a question troubled his mind. 

Then Kirishima’s words echoed. “It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?” 

“Mom,” he called out, gathering all of his courage despite how his voice wavered the slightest for a brief moment. "What is the mainland?"

Mirko's movement abruptly came to a halt. "Where did you hear such a thing, Katsuki?"

"Shitty hair mentioned it to me earlier, and he told me that we used to live there."

We used to live there, she bitterly thought. However, now wasn’t the appropriate time yet. Bakugou was too young to comprehend the complexity of their tribe’s origin and the dreadful history that existed between her race and his.

Lost in her own contemplation, Mirko became silent. Even without words, it was enough for Bakugou to understand that she wouldn’t discuss the topic right now.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, “Nevermind, just forget what I said.”

She offered him a smile, “Once you’ve become more mature and the village chief, I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Promise?” Bakugou held out his hand, curling it into a ball while extending his pinky finger.

“Promise.”

… 

Darkness enveloped the seas, painting the area with a somber shade; large clouds loomed over the horizons, concealing even the tiniest patch of the sun’s warm gleam. The dark sky mourned, shedding every ounce of its grief in the form of heavy rain. The dance of the waves was turbulent, its motion unrefined. Despite its enormous size, the ship swayed with its chaotic beat, trying to match its pace. 

The sensation of a thousand needles penetrated every inch of Bakugou’s body as a strong gust of the wind swept over his skin. He felt surrounded by a uniform chill, an endless tingling all over him. Although he was in a state of great discomfort, he couldn’t do anything but scream and cry out, waiting and seeking a specific warmth.

All of a sudden, the wintry feeling dissipated as a surge of comforting heat cascaded to his dainty body. 

“Calm down, child. Everything will be alright.” A soothing voice reached to his ears, gently hushing his cries. As Bakugou looked up, he was instantly met with a woman who looked very similar to him—blonde locks and the brightest pair of crimson eyes.

“Mom’s here, Katsuki. My arms will keep you safe and warm.”

“Is everything alright, dear?” Another voice spoke, but it was deeper and more masculine. 

“Katsuki was crying earlier, but everything’s fine now.” 

“That’s good to know.” The man wrapped a blanket around the woman and hugged her tightly. “You’ll get cold.”

She only chuckled, “Thank you so much, Masaru.” 

Upon a closer inspection of the man called Masaru, he also had a little bit of resemblance to Bakugou. He bore the same spiky hair as him, albeit in a different shade.

The two people in front of him were mere strangers to him, yet he could feel a sense of familiarity. A sense of belongingness. Despite the raging seas and a terrible storm, he found solace in their arms and presence.

…Could it be?

“Katsuki!”

“The fuck?!“ An excruciating pain shot through Bakugou’s body; his side throbbed at the sudden pressure of nimble fingers on his flesh, causing him to abruptly sit up and open his eyes. Groaning, he massaged his tormented body. “What the hell was that for?”

Mirko looked at him incredulously. “Have you lost your fucking mind? Katsuki, today’s the turnover ceremony and you’re just sleeping!”

Bakugou’s gaze fell on the mirror, scrutinizing his form. From a tiny brat, he grew into a man with his stature broad and tall. His feeble build developed into a Herculean one, cladded with taut and pronounced muscles. Tainting his tanned skin, faint scars ran across his body—a constant reminder planted on his body of his hard work throughout the years. 

Bakugou had never had an easy life, yet he persevered. Persevered to earn everyone’s respect and acceptance. Even if it took some time, all of his efforts didn’t end in vain. Everyone had started seeing him in a positive light when he had saved a group of children from an elite monster that roamed around their grounds. Although there was still a little bit of grudge against the tribe that lingered within him, he was not a cruel person to let the lives of the innocent be taken away.

As his carmine eyes peered carefully at his reflection, the corner of his mouth twitched into a wicked grin. 

Oh, he was ecstatic.

The prospect of finally being the chief of the tribe inflated his ego. He wanted to show everyone, especially those who ridiculed him in the past, that despite their differences, he was capable of leading them. 

“Damn brat, stop doing weird shit and take a bath!”

Bakugou grabbed a piece of fabric, “I am, just fucking wait, you old hag!” Exiting the house, he slammed the door closed and made his way toward the bathhouse, his feet pounding against the ground. Gradually, his heavy steps waned into hush pitter-patters. His thoughts drifted off, pondering on his dream. Bakugou couldn’t help but think of it as a distant memory. There was no way that his mind could make up such a scenario. It was too realistic to be just a dream.

He clicked his tongue. There was only one way to find out.

“Guess I have to ask the old hag later.”

…

A groan fell on Bakugou’s lips as Mirko brushed his messy hair into a clean-slick style, pushing it back. Her movements were rough, harshly tugging the blonde strands.

“Argh!” Bakugou cried. “Calm the fuck down woman. At this rate, you’re gonna make me bald at the age of twenty!”

“Did you really wash your hair?” Mirko seethed her teeth, jaw clenching as she struggled to maneuver the brush. Her fingers clawed the wooden handle with a vice-like grip. “Why the hell is it so fucking tough?”

After a while, Bakugou’s hair had finally set, causing Mirko’s lips to break into a proud grin as she was satisfied with her work.

“Aww,” Mirko cooed, “You finally look decent.”

“What the hell does that mean?!” 

Without any warnings, his hair poofed back to its original state.

She let out a heavy sigh, “Your hair is a hopeless case.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Bakugou raised his brow as his hand ran through his spiky hair. “I think I look hella good with this style.”

Mirko rolled her eyes.  “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, you damn brat.”

Then silence invaded the house as they busied themselves. Mirko was fixing her hair while Bakugou was glancing at his appearance; his face contorted to different expressions, attempting to find a confident look befitting at the ceremony later on. Though, it was short-lived when Bakugou spoke.

“Hey,” he started. “I hope you didn’t forget your promise 10 years ago.”

Mirko scoffed, “As if I’ve ever broken any promise to you. Bringing that subject up, I assume you have something to ask me.”

“Well...I had this strange dream last night.” Bakugou tucked his fingers under his chin, his expression morphing into a solemn one as he recollected the events of the dream. “I was on a ship, and there were two strangers with me. I don’t know why, but they fucking look like me. And somehow, it feels like it’s not just a dream...”

“These two strangers you speak of…are they the same with these?” Bakugou turned around to find Mirko’s offering hand—her arm stretching out to him and her palm cupping an item: a locket necklace. 

“Th–wh–ho–hah...” Words seemed to die out before he could even formulate a coherent sentence. With its lock unlatched, his throat dried upon seeing the pictures of the mysterious man and woman in his dream embedded on it. Bakugou took a deep breath,“Yeah, they are.”

A wry smile adorned her face. “When you were still an infant, I found you on the beach, washed up on the shore with planks, which I assumed to be the remnants of a ship wreckage. And you had this necklace with you. Perhaps…”

Bakugou widened his eyes, realization dawning upon him. “They’re my...real parents?”

Mirko curtly nodded. 

“Do you think that they are still alive?” his words were barely a whisper, hushed like the breeze. There was a small flicker of hope within him. Just maybe, just maybe...

This time, her lips curled into a frown. “I highly doubt it. I didn’t see anyone aside from you. Moreover, even if they do, I’m afraid that they won’t even have a slight chance of survival here.”

Ah. 

There was not a single falsehood in her words. Ever since he was still a mere child—young and foolish, one of his favorite pastimes included venturing out alone deep into the heart of the jungle, looking for some thrill and excitement of battles. This was also another means of honing his skills. 

There, he would encounter all kinds of savage beasts. Being an outsider of the tribe, he didn’t have an innate brute strength like Kirishima, putting him at a significant disadvantage for any battle. There was never a time he returned to the village unscathed. Deep gashes ran across his complexion, sullying it with wounds. Experiencing the dangers of the jungle first-hand, he knew his parents would not survive for a long time.

“Thought so.” 

How stupid of me, Bakugou thought. He wouldn’t have been adopted into the tribe if they were. As he closed the locket, there were strange letterings engraved on it.

“What does it say?” he asked.

“Your name, Bakugou Katsuki.”

“How did you know how to read this shit?”

Mirko tousled his hair, “I just do. Anyway, we should get going. People are waiting for us. I’ll continue entertaining your questions after the ceremony.”

…

A new reign has dawned upon the tribe. Numerous pairs of eyes crowded a singular form in scrutiny.

His golden tresses swayed with the heavy thump of his footsteps; his stance never wavered. Piercing crimson orbs bore into their peering gaze without cowering. A saunter and look of confidence. There he stood with the bearing of a true king.

A new reign has begun. The reign of a man called Bakugou Katsuki.

… 

With a break of dawn, a new day arrived. 

The sun roused from its deep slumber, gradually pulling its weight to the dark yonder. Its radiance shone across the land. The sky’s leaden palette subdued, grading into a warm glow of autumnal shades. The golden rays blessed the soils, warming the earth with its heat. 

Bakugou witnessed every detail as he was once again on the beach; his eyes trained on the horizon. Three days have passed, yet he hasn’t spoken with Mirko regarding her promise. Though, he couldn’t blame her. Ever since the ceremony, his schedule was always hectic, often meeting up with people, listening to their woes and allocating resources within the tribe. Being the village chief was indeed a challenging position.

Well, he had a free time today, so he might have an opportunity to continue their conversation.

Bakugou stood up from the ground, his feet sinking into the sand. He took a deep breath, and the salty smell of the seas wafted to his nostrils before exhaling. He did some light stretching, extending his arms.  

As he slowly made his way back to the village, he suddenly came into a halt as he encountered an unexpected scene. A mysterious figure was being cornered by a large beast. From afar, Bakugou could clearly see how their legs trembled in fear. 

Wanting to inspect more, he took a closer look. As he closed the distance a little bit, his lungs forgot to function, his breath hitching. Surprise crossed over his features.

This was no simple figure. In the midst of a jungle, Bakugou has stumbled upon a stranger. A stranger just like him.

“...What the hell?”

AUTHOR’S NOTE | i really apologize for the delay of upload 🤧 the past 2 days were really stressful and i hadn't have a proper sleep yet bc i crammed an assignment 🙈 (and this is why u should never procrastinate 😭) but yes! a chapter all about katsu 😚 hoho i'm pretty sure you already know who he encountered hehe but anyway, next chap. will be about y/n but i'm not sure when's the next update. still though, hope u enjoy reading it!

TAGLIST STATUS | OPEN — shoot me an ask if you want to be added 💫  (i’ll just keep this open)